


Host of Hyperion

by 1crepusculum3



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Hyperion, Not Beta Read, Olympians, mentionedpercyjacksoncharacters, no beta we die like men, percyjacksonuniverse, romanandgreekgods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2019-10-20 07:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17618411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1crepusculum3/pseuds/1crepusculum3
Summary: Elisabeth Askeland and Kennedy Jane Wyrene were two normal girls attending a reform school in Pennsylvania. Or so they thought that's what would happen. When a titan decides that its his time to be taken note of, its up to these two girls to stop him from carrying out his plan. Will these two demigods stop him in time? Or will they fail and the world fall?Dislcaimer: I don't own any characters that are mentioned from the pjo series. I also don't own Kennedy Jane Wyrene.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I would like to make a disclaimer and say that there is another author who is also writing this with but she does not have an account therefore I'm adding this here. I also want to mention that yes this takes in the Percy Jackson Universe but there won't be any very many appearances of the characters, mainly mentions of them. This is the first work I'm posting on this sight so please be kind and please let me know if there are any mistakes. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

**Prologue**

Two girls walk down separate halls. Both clutch bags and suitcases tightly in their hands. The walls loom over them menacingly, as they make their way to the head office. Both see the mahogany door up ahead, with a feeling of dread settling in their heads.

Both girls glance at each other, taking in each others presences, then turn their gazes back towards the mahogany doors. Elisabeth Askeland and Kennedy Jane Wyrene are two girls with troubled pasts, and uncertain futures.

 

**Elisabeth's pov**

I bit my lip in apprehension, my stomach knitting itself into knots as I walked down the hallway. As I walked closer to the ending of the hallway, I noticed a girl walking down the hallway opposite to mine in my direction. As we walked closer each other, I was able to see her more clearly. Her shoulder length brown and purple ombre swayed with her movements and her brown and gold eyes darting around the hallways, as if trying to drink in every tiny detail, not wanting to miss a thing. 

Her pale skin glowing in the lamp light, illuminating the freckles that dusted across her cheeks. I quickly glanced away, so she wouldn't notice my staring.

My gaze fastened on the beautifully carved ceiling. My mouth hung open as I looked at the rich chocolate colored walls and the exquisite rose colored carpets. My hand tightened around the small suitcase I was carrying. Seeing all of these magnificent objects made my nervousness multiply.

I turned my gaze back in front of me and found myself at the end of the hallway, the girl already turning to walk down the next hallway. I turned right the next hallway, following behind the girl. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, a nervous habit that I picked up from my older brother, and glanced around the hallway looking at all the paintings that lined the walls.

I was so engrossed in the paintings that I hadn't noticed that we had reached the end of the hallway. I stopped abruptly to keep myself from running into the girl. Then the girl reached her hand up and knocked on the door.

 

**Kennedy's pov**

My hands clenched the weathered suitcase that belonged to my brother years before. I stared at the illuminated hallway, its magnificence burning my eyes. The hallway was empty, except for a girl walking in the hallway across mine, holding a suitcase as well. 

Her platinum blonde hair was visible from across the corridor. Her pale eyes met mine. My eyes were still hurting from the glowing hallway, so they fell to the rich red carpet, designed with gold characters, breaking our contact. My eyes lifted up, to get another glimpse of her thick hair that stood out amidst the hallways' walls. Her eyes reminded me of Alaskan ice that hadn't melted yet. Her fair milky skin shone brightly, illuminated by the glowing lights above us.

I forced my eyes to look elsewhere, not wanting to awkwardly keep staring at this girl. They fastened onto a ridiculous painting of a woman dressed in white with a haughty expression on her face. I jammed my free hand into my pocket, and turned left into the next hallway, the girl right behind me.

I could hear her light footsteps, clicking after me. I did not want to turn around. The intricately decorated mahogany doors are a stone's throw away. Stained glass windows create patterns on the floor. Red, blue turquoise, made steps like a pathway on the floor as I walked. They gleamed brightly at me, but my eyes are too sensitive for their beauty.

The door slowly approached me closer and closer. Terror seized me, and my spine shivered as the door slowly got closer. I finally noticed voices emerging from the room behind the doors. My hand, trembling, reached up and knocked on the shimmering door. 

My knuckles barely rapped the fine door when it was thrown open by a man in a black suit. He wore pearly white gloves and shiny leather shoes that gleam like everything inside this place.

"Enrolling in reform school?" His voice was pleasant.

I nodded.

"Come inside, and wait outside the third door, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

My feet found feeling, just enough to walk down to the third door, this one made of ebony with brass knobs, with two lone chairs of birch with plush cushions facing each other just outside. The shouting seemed to come from the ebony door. 

I sat down in one of the chairs, just to realize the blonde girl had followed right behind me. She sat down in the chair opposite of me. I set my suitcase down gently, and set my leather messenger bag atop it. I crossed my legs, and stared down at my old jeans. 

_Open, door open, please_ , I thought nervously, not wanting to be in silence with this random girl. The yelling ceased, but the door did not open. I could feel the girl's eyes on me every occasion. My hands laced tightly into my lap, and stared at my oval shaped fingernails.

_Good lord, what could be taking this long?_ I thought nervously. My purple highlighted hair fell into my eyes, and my hand rushed up to tuck it back into place.

The door stubbornly refused to open. The girl's fingers continuously keep tucking the falling strands of hair behind her ears.

"It's pretty hot in here huh?"

My eyes snapped up to her. She smiled at me with a genuine in her eyes.

"Yeah...a bit warm...yeah," I managed. The girl laughed slightly and held out her hand.

"My name is Elisabeth Askeland. What's yours?" she said with a lopsided smile, a slight accent revealing itself.

"Kennedy. Kennedy Jane Wyrene," I tried to tone down my own accent, "Are you foreign?"

"Yeah, I'm Norwegian," she said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

I tried to think of something to say, but the only thing that came out was, "So you're from...Norwygia?"

The girl blinked and furrowed her eyebrows, "You mean Norway right?"

My face burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

"Right," I murmured weakly, glancing again at the door that refused to open. The girl laughed and shook her head. 

"There's no need to be embarrassed about that it was an honest mistake," she said grinning. 

I thought there _is_ a reason, but all I said was,

"That's what we Brits _do_ , Elisabeth."

"I'm Danish also. From Denmark."

My face burned again furiously. 

"I'm from Westminster, London," I murmured.

The ebony door swung open so ferociously we both jumped. Out swept a bone white man with a long black duster with silver fastenings. His face was red with fury. He spun around.

"I will be back, Arthur!" he roared furiously, "And I expect more-"

He stopped when he saw the two of us, pressed back into our seats, surveying him with horror. He cleared his throat, and pressed his dark hair smoothly back onto his head.

The headmaster strode out of the doorframe. His hair was salt-and-pepper, black with streaks of white, that was neatly cut and smoothed onto his head. He had regal and strong features, with dark gray eyes that gleamed under the bright light. He had a small handlebar mustache that, like his hair, was neatly but and shone as much as a mustache can shine. He wore a neat gray suit and a blue tie with gold trimmings. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stepped out of the doorframe. 

"I know you will be back, Gregor," He said calmly, "I daresay this new wave of student enrollments will tempt you, yes? Like we discussed?"

He spread his hands in both of our directions. Elisabeth looked at me in surprise. The man called Gregor looked at us shrewdly. I wanted to sink the chair's birch frame.

"Of course," he said shortly, and turned to sweep quickly down the hall.

The headmaster sighed. His eyes looked at both of us, and my hands dug into the chair's handle.

"Right," he says, "Which one of you two is Kennedy Jane Wyrene?"

My heart skipped two beats.

"Me, sir," I said.

"Come with me," he turned sharply into his office. I swallowed.

Elisabeth gave me a nervous thumbs up.

I picked up my suitcase, my bag and all my courage, and followed him into his office, the ebony door closing behind me.

 

**_End of Prologue_ **

 


	2. Chapter 1 - Elisabeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just to note for the rest of the book - the names in the chapter signify who's point of view that story is being told from and it will be told from first person pov

I wish I had known beforehand that waiting was not one of my strong suits. I didn't think that waiting for that girl to come out- I think her name was Kennedy- so that I could talk with the headmaster would make my nerves riot against me. My right knee bounced up and down to the rhythm of my racing heartbeat.  _'Calm down Elisabeth. There is no need to get all panicky, it's just meeting with the school headmaster, who may or may not expel you if you do something wrong...crap'_. I was so engrossed in my thoughts I didn't know that Kennedy had exited the office until I heard my name called. I jumped, almost falling out of the chair I had been sitting in. 

"Ms. Elisabeth Askeland?" 

"Y-yes, that's me," I stuttered, straightening my hair.

"The headmaster will see you now."

"Alright," I grabbed my suitcase and walked into the headmaster's office.

I walked to the center of the mahogany room and sat down in one of the velvet chairs in the center of the room. The office had the same look that the halls did, with a giant, life-size portrait of a cold looking middle aged man.

"Ehem." I jumped, fixing my eyes on the source of the noise. In the center of the room was a sand coloured desk, littered with papers and pens with a silver plaque with words that read 'Headmaster Arthur Martinez'. 

"Hello Ms. Askeland, welcome to this fine establishment. I have your classes and your dorm room right here," He grabbed a short stack of papers, shuffled them and held them out for me to grab.

"Thank you," I grabbed the stack of papers from his outstretched hand. But he pulled them back before I could get a solid grip on them.

"Just a few questions-if you don't mind," his voice didn't make it sound like a request. 

"Sure, I don't mind," I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear for the one thousandth time today.

"How many siblings do you have, Ms. Askeland?"

"I have two siblings."

"Elaborate. Boys or girls?"

"Both of my siblings are boys."

"Older or younger, miss?"

"One is older, the other one is younger."

"Yes...hmm...do you have  _both_ of your parents?"

"...No I do not."

"Which is gone? Mother or Father?"

"My mother."

"Ah...did you know your mother at all?" He pushed slightly.

"No I didn't," I fidgeted in the chair.

"Hmm...where was it,  _again_ , where you are from?"

I narrowed my eyes, "Shouldn't that be on my papers?"

His cold, thin-lipped smile turned into a sneer. 

"I wanted to hear myself. Besides, the papers only say where you were born, not where you lived previously. So I'll ask again. _Where are you from?"_

"I'm from Oslo, Norway."

"Yes...Norway," he scribbled something down into a piece of paper, "One more thing. How did you come upon our quaint establishment? Why haven't your brothers come?"

"My dad thought it would be a school for me but I think it's mostly because I cause too much trouble and I ruin his image of 'family'."

He crossed his arms. A single strand fell out of combed hair.

"And you are fully aware this school does not tolerate troublemakers? No matter  _how_ insistent the parentage?" his eyes gleamed.

"Well, I guess I better pack up my bags and get on the nearest train out of here. I'm like a trouble magnet," I chuckled trying to make myself less nervous. 

He did  _not_ smile. He let out a bark of cold laughter that didn't sound at all sincere. 

"No worries, Ms. Askeland!" his mouth thinned into a harsh line, "This school will shape you right."

His tone wasn't very light. He slid the file of papers towards me. 

"These papers show where your classes are, where your dorm is, and which classes you have. Just be sure to follow the rules and you should be fine here," he said with a cold smile. "Now head down to your dorm to get settled and head over to the cafeteria for dinner."

"Okay, thanks," I said nervously stuffing the papers I had acquired and walked out of the headmaster's office.

I started walking down the hallway and released a sigh of relief. I continued walking until I reached the outside of the building. I turned the knob on the large glass doors and stepped outside the building. The minute I stepped out of the building, I felt a chill go up my spine. I glanced around the grounds and saw a group of what looked to be teachers surveying the students that walked back and forth on the grounds. One of the teachers snapped their head to look in my direction, as if they felt me watching, and stretched a thin smile across their lips and waved at me. My body tensed and I quickly walked in the direction which I hoped my dorm was, feeling their chill gaze upon my back. 

I turned around to check to see if the person was still looking at me when I collided with something and fell backwards onto the sidewalk.

"Ow-," I sat up rubbing my head. I looked up to see another one of those teachers that was watching the students on the campus.

When I finally reached my dorm, I was shaking from all the apprehension that I was feeling. I rushed into the building and slammed the door. I set down my suitcase and took out the papers. I shuffled through them until I found the paper with my dorm number and headed in search of my dorm room.

_End of Chapter One_


	3. Chapter 2 - Kennedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another note: my co-writer and I will be switching off being the lead writer every chapter. So if the writing style seems different that is why. I also want to clarify that I will be talking the chapter labeled with 'Elisabeth' and my co-writer will be taking the chapters labeled 'Kennedy'. Thank you and I hope you enjoy.

_'Room Ero,'_ I thought hurriedly, _'Room Ero...'_

All of the hallways look the same: tall, elegant, arched mahogany ceilings and expensive paintings. I could barely find my way back to my dorm, much less the English classroom. Students milled about, checking their silver watched and skipping on their pure leather and wood shoes, at a slow and calm pace. My hands were trembling under my tight white weather leather gloves, given to me as a birthday present. I climbed up yet another flight of velvet stairs, and finally saw the maple door up ahead. I hurried toward it, pulling my uniform skirt another inch down, and modestly pulled the door open. There were only five students in the classroom so far, all in one group like oil on water. I wanted to groan. 

"This is the English room, right?" I called out to the group, "Mr. Wright's class?"

A brown-haired girl seemed to take pity on me. "Yeah," she said. 

Relief flooded into me. I selected a chair on the fair left side, not in the back, but not in the front. I checked my books to ensure they were all in place, and then pulled my assignment notebook to copy down the homework scribbled on the board. Taped into my assignment notebook's first page, however, was a weathered, old note. I recognized it instantly. 

**_To Ms. Kennedy Jane Wyrene,_ **

**_I regret to inform you that father has indeed passed away by natural causes. I will be relocating you to a reform school in the United States to ensure your safety. This will not be permanent but for how long, I cannot say. In this envelope will be the form and document for you to turn into the headmaster. I will try and visit you, but things are busy._ **

**_For the best of luck,_ **

**_Charlotte Myra Wyrene_ **

I scowled looking at the letter. Nothing but a tiny letter to tell me what my future was, and by my step sister, no less. Charlotte was a self conceited brat, and she no doubt, has much pleasure pleasure to toss me into this stuffy reform school. She had given me the gloves to make sure I didn't weird anyone out with my palm scars, and demanded that I cut off my highlighted section of hair. When I refused, she was so angry, she hit me across my face. I kept the letter though, just to have something to keep me going. Should she come, I would make sure I tore her arms off along with her perfect face. I had tons of Charlotte's letters stored up in my suitcase, and I sometimes tear them up or burn them to relinquish my anger. 

It was therapeutic 

I drew crying eyes and monstrous things until the bell rang. It wasn't even a  _ring,_ more of a pleasant chime. I closed my notebook and slipped it far into my shoulder bag that held all of my books. The rest of the class filed in. I knew their type instantly. Perfect, porcelain boys and girls that had neatly combed hair and flawless skin that hadn't suffered even a scratch. The girls had clean, painted nails and diamond earrings that were worth more than all of my wardrobe. The boys had solid gold watches and polished leather shoes that gleamed under the room's florescent lights. They all wore their uniforms with great pride, and walked with a poised strut. They even sat _down_ with grace, the girls crossing their legs so tightly it looked painful. I rolled my eyes. 

"Good morning, class!"

Our supposed teacher Mr. Wright stood up to a cherry wood podium that was engraved with strange characters. He had wavy blonde hair that had lines of gray in it. He had a handlebar mustache that matched the headmaster exactly. His eyes were beady and dark, and his teeth were shiny like pearls. He flashed his teeth at us brightly. I noticed the girl from enrollment just the day before... Elisabeth I believed. Her platinum blonde hair was tied up, so it looked like a moonlit broom end sticking out of the sea of heads.

"Good morning, Mr. Wright!" the entire class called back.

"Ah, what a lovely class we have here today! A few new faces, I see!" he beamed cheekily at the group.

I wanted to crawl under my desk and hide. Mr. Wright was scrolling through a list through a list an a clipboard. 

"Mr....Ethan Acklebar!" he called out.

"Hell-o, Mr. Wright!" Ethan called cheerily.

"Love the enthusiasm!" he grinned. "Ms.....Elisabeth Askeland!"

The platinum blonde girl's hand shot up. "Here!" she chirped. 

"Lovely to meet you!" he smiled. "Ms....Karen Johnston!"

Another girl was so excited she was bouncing up and down her seat. "Here!" she said so enthusiastically, I thought she would burst.

Mr. Wright chuckled merrily,  _"Someone's_ excited, wonderful!" 

"Mr....Marcus Finland!" he called.

Mr. Wright nodded then scanned his eyes down the list. "Ms....Kennedy Wyrene!"

My heart leaped at the sound of my name, and my entire body jolted up. 

"Here!" I called out with a stab at cheeriness. 

Mr. Wright beamed down at me brightly. He set down his clipboard and clapped his pale hands together for attention. The entire class eyed him, excited and thirsty to learn more. I wanted to roll my eyes again. He turned to the board and wrote down: "How to Parse Sentences Using Predicate Nominative".

"Does anyone know how to parse sentences using the predicative nominative?" Mr. Wright asked.

Several hands shot into the air. Karen Johnston was so thrilled, she swayed excitedly in her seat, as if to control herself. 

I was having issues. The board's slipped in and out of focus, the words bent crazily so the words mashed up like spaghetti. I squinted madly, but to no avail. I didn't remember needing glasses. 

"Ms. Wyrene?" Mr. Wright called, "Why don't you give it a try?"

Luckily, Charlotte was always lecturing me on grammar, so I knew how to parse. But writing on the board without being able to read the sentence I was parsing?

Debatable.

"Uh...actually, Mr. Wright, do you think you could read the sentence aloud first?" I asked nervously. 

Mr. Wright's beady eyes seemed to glint, only it was probably my imagination, with feral joy. 

"Why, of course, Ms. Wyrene!" he said, the glint now nonexistent, "The sentence says, 'The Sahara Desert has too hot of a climate for humans to live in.'"

I nodded, and stepped out of my seat to take his piece of chalk. I could hear people muttering at the sight of my highlighted hair and old gray jacket over my uniform shirt. I was just so  _scandalous_ to them.

"So...the 'Sahara Desert' is the subject..."

The class dragged on. What surprised me, was that some of the kids needed to hear the sentences aloud, like they couldn't read the board either. Elisabeth had the same request.

When the bell rang, I nearly shot to my feet to leave. I crammed my sloppy notes into my notebook and hurried out, only because I was sure Mr. Wright's beady eyes were following me. 

* * *

 

Math, Science, and Social Studies were just as painful. The teachers didn't seem too surprised that some kids needed to sit in front of the board (me included) because they were having trouble seeing. In fact, the teachers seemed  _pleased._ Lunch finally rolled around. Soon, I realized that lunch would be three times more horrid than all the classes combined. Groups clumped together so tightly that they formed perfect circles which clearly said,  _'We are officially not accepting any more friends right now.'_ Even the social outcasts shot me a look, like I was  _too_ rebellious for their taste. I ended up slamming my tray onto the end of a stray table at the far corner of the room. I had barely taken a bite from my sandwich when a soft voice rang out.

"Can I sit here?"

I looked up, expecting Elisabeth Askeland, but instead it was a small girl with bright orange hair. Her eyes were sad and green, and I remember seeing her picture in the new enrollments list on the headmaster's desk. She also sat in front of me during science.

"Yeah," I said noncommittally, "You're Leah Currant, right?"

She smiled slightly.

"Yeah. Kennedy Wyrene? Transfer like me?" she asked.

"Mhm," I muttered. 

She sat down across from me. Her skin flawless, not even a freckle on her fair milky skin. She picked at her cafeteria food. Despite having a full course meal wuth completed soup, salad, main course, and fruit dessert. She only had a few bites. 

"Did you have trouble reading the board during Science today?"

I looked up at her. She looked dead serious, her smile gone. I stared back at her.

_"New transfers, please report for the head office, new transfers, please report for head office, thank you."_

The loudspeakers blared this message loudly. I looked at Leah. She waiting for an answer. I saw Elisabeth looking at me from her table a few feet away.

* * *

Thirty-two stood in line in front of the headmaster's desk. His desk was polished ebony, like his door, with engraved eagles and panthers and other regal stuff. I stood at the end of the line. Elisabeth Askeland was three people away from me. 

A tall woman in a cream suit stepped into the room. She looked young, but her hair was snow white. She wore expensive heels and her white hair was tied so tightly into a bun that I had to wince. 

"Good afternoon, students," she said calmly. "I am the headmaster's secretary, Amanda Olsen. Right now, you will recieve your dorm documents with your information listed. Your dorms will be on be on the  _west wing._ Understand?"

"Wait," said a boy in the middle holding a blue and white suitcase, "We already  _got_ our dorms. Are we gonna have to switch? That's  _ridiculous!"_

Some students muttered in assent.

"Your name?" Mrs. Olsen asked sharply.

The boy paled. 

"Carter Jobal," he whispered.

"Well, Mr. Jobal, you are in...Dorm 3A, here's your form."

She strode over to him casually, and handed him his form. He took in a breath. He still clutched a suitcase, which was strange, and I could make out dozens of keychains that hung on the handles and zippers. Soon, all of the students had a white form in their hands, and were checking with their friends to see what they had gotten. I looked down on my form -  _Kennedy Jane Wyrene: Dorm 4F._

"You got 4F? So did I! Well 3F, for that matter..."

I turned around to see Elisabeth beaming at me. I looked at her form, and saw it was true. Leah Currant stepped over, and showed us her form -  _Leah Currant: Dorm 3B._

"Oh, you got stuck next to that smart aleck, Jobal!" Elisabeth sympathized. 

Leah grinned slightly. 

"Please. If he's afraid of an old business woman in heels to high for her own body, I  _think_ I'll be okay," she smirked in Carter's direction. We all burst out laughing.

"Head to your new dorms!" Mrs. Olsen called sharply over the noise, "And make sure your form is on your nightstand before you head to your next class!"

We all headed down in one big group. I noticed that this particular group was more carefree, with a large chattering amount of boys and girls with sweatshirts over their uniforms, coloured hair, and old dingy shoes. Two other girls, Sarah Micah and Kylie Michaels, were part of our four-girl dorm. Sarah had green streaks of colour in her blonde hair and a tight black choker lining her throat. She was funny and knew  _way_ too many pick up lines. Kylie was shy but sweet, with nimble fingers that can braid nearly anything. Her brown hair was braided into a millions of different braided strands, French, Dutch, fishtail, rope, and many others. She had a fondness for sparkly stickers and had a collection of them plastered onto her assignment notebook, her bag, her folders and binders, and on her hands and arms.

We found our stuff sitting neatly on out assigned beds. Sitting on my suitcase was an envelope. I opened the envelope, and my heart clenched when I saw the handwriting:

_**To Ms. Kennedy Jane Wyrene,** _

_**I would hope that you have settled into Pennsylvania by now. Pennsylvania's Camden Academy for Gifted Students is a very prestigious and perfect for you, little sister, to get good influence back into your life. Richard has moved away to Venice to pursue his studies, but I'm sure he will write if he is not too busy! I will come to visit as soon as the opportunity arises. Until, then make friends and remember, studies before social statuses!** _

_**Best of luck,** _

_**Charlotte Myra Wyrene** _

I scowled yet again. I stuck the letter with the other eight I had received on my journey to America. While my stepsister got to enjoy my home in Westminister, London, I had to suffer in this stuffy reform school in Pennsylvania. And now my actual older brother has moved away. Perfect.

"Nice dorm, don't you think?" Elisabeth grinned, feeling her quilt with the school's emblem in the center, gilded with gold thread.

"Nicer than mine in the east wing...wonder why they switched us," Kylie said.

Sarah shrugged, stretching her legs out on her bed and kicking her suitcase onto the floor.

"Who cares?" She yawned.

I frowned. The pleasant bell chime filled the room, signaling is to go to our classes of the day, physical education and psychology. The day goes by quickly.

Falling asleep was hard. The pillow was soft and smelled of lilac but that wasn't the issue. There was a strange wailing sound in the far background. The sounds melted into the corners of my audio, and the ground seemed to vibrate. I sat up, but the obscurities disappeared as soon as they came. I checked to see if any of my new roommates had the same issue, but they seems to be fast asleep.  

At breakfast, Leah Currant joined Sarah, Kylie, Elisabeth, and I for breakfast. Only when she sat down and mentioned the strange sounds outside her dorm and bet it was the boys next door to her, when I noticed what was wrong.

Carter Jobal had failed to make it to breakfast that morning. 

_End of Chapter 2_

 

 


End file.
